I wish I was like a star,
And
I
Could
Shine
If
I
Want to.

Eventually,
I stopped,
noticing the smell,
of burnt,
****.

S T I L L
t  a t i  o
o l  s e v
p k   s  e
   i
   n
   g

My dog can't see,
He goes under the table and paws at me.
Asking me to pet him, which I do.
But how does he know,
What hand is petting him if he can't see?

Excuse me for assuming,
That if I text you 'hi,'
Once in a while,
You'd want to respond.

Someday,
You'll bury me alive,
And I won't care,
I'll smile way down into,
The grave.

Somebody tell Tyler the Creator,
I want to write him a rap.
But when he raps it,
I want it to be the first time he reads it.
That way,
The emotional response will be original.

I miss the way,
She used to hold me,
When we were us,

I
used To
read My poems
in Talent shows
i Don't think i will this year
i Worry i won't come off as well as the singers and dancers
i know that They will clap the same for me
but Are they
really Listening?

Did you know that,
The Earth.
Is a master chef?

When I went on vacation to Piseco,
I was exploring the rocky islands out on the lake.
I slipped and fell,
Cut my wrist against the black rocks I landed on.
My uncle said it wouldn't scar, he was wrong.
Everyone assumes I did it to myself,
But I didn't.

Who gave you the right, little man,
To say slurs in the dark,
When the paper I write on,
Is the color of your hand.

You're a gorgon,
You turn people to stone.
You set your gaze on people I love,
Just to spite me.
You turn them into monsters,
I can't believe I knew.

I had a dream last night,
Where I was singing Christmas carols,
With Bob Ross.
He didn't know the words,
To "Silent night."

Sometimes I'll be listening to music,
And the music will pause.
So I have to go back to what's playing the music,
To ensure it that it's playing the right song.

Sometimes
I feel
Like my words
Are just flavor text

Love knows
No; not so —used to express negation, dissent, denial, or refusal
Bounds so don't
Try; to make an attempt at —often used with an infinitive
To give it some.

Ofetn,
I spel wordz,
Awefully wong.

Para hablar contigo,
C'est comme parler,
In così tanti,
Diversis linguis.

There came a point,
Where he no longer feared.
The endless stream of violence,
They faced him with.

Sometimes,
We do,
Things in the,
Dark that we so,
Desperately want people to see.

Often,
Lust
Over
Veritable
Empathy
Doesn't work out,
The way we,
Wishing
Any
Numerical
Treasure
It to.

There came a point,
Where the medicine,
Designed to help,
Started to hurt.

I have a drawer,
Full of poems,
I never want the,
World to see.

I
W
  i
   s
   h
    Y
     o
      u
       W
        o
         u
          l
           d
            L
             i
              s
                t
                 e
                   n
                      M
                         o
                           r
                            e
                              A
                                ­ n
                                   d
                                     Y
                                       e
                                         l
                                          l
                                           L
                                            e
                                             s
                                              s

Sometimes,
I write these when somethings on my mind.
Most times,
I write these when nothings on my mind at all.

I'll write as many love poems as I want,
But the one person they're for,
Will never read them.

Latin is a beautiful language,
But it confuses me.
Ignis significat aquam.

When you give someone a poem,
It should make them blush.
But not redder than you,
Though, often when I give someone a poem,
They don't read it at all.

If you lose a poem,
Just the paper you wrote it on.
You haven't lost the poem at all.

It seems,
That the poem,
You want to be,
Popular isn't always going to,
Be and that's a shame but,
I'm just glad somebody will read my,
Poems now nobody used to read them thanks.

Tonight there were fireworks,
They went off over the lake.
They were so loud,
It was like they were trying to blow a hole in the sky.

Tea is a colorful drink,
It comes in many different shades.
White Tea,
Sweet and delicate, brewed from the fragrant flowers of the tea tree.
Black Tea,
Strong and simple, a firm hand to lift you up from bed.
Green Tea,
Earthy and natural, weather or not the leaves or fired or steamed.
The Tea from my Grandmother's ***,
Beautiful and delicate, imprinting upon you like fresh snow on the roads of Boston.

My love sent me to dig two graves,
One for her, one for me,
When our eternity has passed.
But instead I dug three.
One for her,
One for me,
One for my temptations,
That I’m tempted to take you see.
Even if I love her,
I still love the thrills.
So when I am old,
And life brings drafts and chills.
I will hold her close to me, to the grave,
But I will bring all the thrills,
They just don’t seem to leave me.

Slipping soundlessly into sound,
Is the dancer,
Moving in motion so proud.
I regret the times I didn’t see,
The true amazement she could be.
Instead I saw her uncut form,
Raw emotions,
Which I responded to with stabbing thorns.
It wasn't enough that I returned to you,
Bearing a bouquet of apologies.
Because I loved to hold you,
You loved to be held by me,
I needed attention, I thrived on greed.
Now I hold nothing,
Because you left me.
Slipping soundlessly away,
Leaving forever,
Now I remember you as a fading tune.
God I love that song,
Oh, God, I loved you.
Why do I portray your voice,
As a flute,
Silver, portraying tunes.
Nothing more,
We weren't meant to be.
But sometimes I wonder, how do you portray me?

Reading the Odyssey,
By Greek poet Homer.
I finally realized,
Not all heroes are heroic.
And some aren't heroes at all,
Often the monsters in the story,
Aren't monstrous at all.
Most times they're simple farmers or townspeople,
Upon whom the hero welcomed themselves to.
And when they retaliated,
The author makes it look like the hero did nothing wrong.
Heroes aren't humble,
Not at all.
They waste the lives of their crewmates,
Trying to do the impossible.
And, Odious,
Really *****.

The rose remembers,
The dust from which it came.
I too remember,
The dust from which I came.
I remember blossoming,
From the bud I used to be.
And I remember winter,
I grew thorns that first frost.
I have memories,
From when I leaned constantly to a lover’s hand.
Because I too rose from dust,
And matured in cold months.
And soon I will drop my petals,
And I will perish,
Just to rise again,
Bearing wings like a phoenix.

They told me,
The kind of person I am, is good.
I asked them if they meant my because of my art,
They simply patted my shoulder, "You're not like them darling."
Who are they,
The people you say are bad?
I saw no one different than me at the showcase,
We were all humans who gathered to show off our art.
Of course, I know what they meant,
I just couldn't believe they'd say it.

If I had a time machine,
I'd go back in time,
To talk to ten year old me.
I'd tell him this,
The next four years of your life are going to be painful.
The next few years we be hard,
But don't let that distract you,
From giving life all you've got.

To write the poem,
The one that you'll be know for,
Even beyond the day you fade to Heaven.

It takes a lifetime,
So if I'm lucky,
I still have 86 years,
To make that poem happen.

I don't want to flood this site,
But I think it's worth mentioning,
That overnight,
I went from needing,
299 poets,
To only needing,
294.

I've loved everything I've received,
And I am forever grateful.
Once the poem is done,
I will take down these updates.
So they don't sit around,
They'll be replaced, by a master piece.

Darling,
Do you remember the picnic we had by the sea?
You told me,
To wait there for you.
Darling,
Where are you?
I'm still waiting,
In the same spot you told me to.

I hear whispers,
In the night.
Somebody lurking,
Far away
Or are they,
Very close?
Paranoid,
Hanging crosses on doorknobs.
But does even Christ,
Have the power to protect me from things unreal?
Staring into the dark,
Fatigue eating at me.
Trying to be quiet,
So whatever is out there won't hear me breathe.

Dreams take me back,
To dark winter woods.
Howling winds,
I swear I saw it.
I swear it's real.

Who took my happy days?
How come I didn't see them,
When they came to steal my times of joy?
I remember walking for hours in the evenings,
I remember staying up late with friends.
Who stole them from me,
When I wasn't looking?
I remember loving like the world was going to end,
I remember cuddling up with you.
Your kiss was so warm,
I loved those freckles that spread across your face.
Who lead you away,
Did you look back?
When the invisible man took you from me?
Where did my joy go?
I remember I would get scolded for smiling too much,
Now I've forgotten how to smile.
Why'd they take my smile away?
What did I do to deserve to lose it?
Where'd they go,
My happy days.